2:02 NSG - First Date: Through The Looking Glass
When T pulled the metaphorical handbrake on our dating and told me to see other people, I was not immediately hopeful for the prospect. But then I had a surprising response to a text that I just couldn't ignore...
Ordinarily, my chatting with women online is mostly about wading through small talk until I can find an opportunity to say something real and vulnerable. Most of time they are speechless, but some are quietly intrigued. But this one reacted quite differently:
"I’m having an interesting and strong reaction to your reply. The words you chose and the way you constructed them somehow have a direct line into my feeling world."
This... this was a hypnotic result for me. I asked if we could meet, and she agreed.
Originally we planned on meeting at a rooftop bar downtown, and had some charming self-deprecating text banter in the run-up to the date. Then the day before the date, she mentioned an alternate meeting idea - a concert in the rose garden at Washington Park. Looking it up, I saw that it was the Portland Cello Project playing Radiohead and Beck and such. So I responded that, if she didn't mind the logistics of trying to find each other in a large crowd, it sounded like a pretty special thing to share.
After an eternity, the time of the date finally arrives, and I catch a Lyft to avoid having to park downtown. She gave good directions to where she's already waiting at the venue, but we also use the Find Your Friends function on iPhones to converge. And I meet her in person.
And she's a motherfucking 10.
Tall, athletic, kind eyes, dark wavy hair with just a sweet taste of grey. All wrapped in a little blue sundress that showed off just how perfectly proportioned she is. Her profile pictures were at the cute end of the spectrum, but generally softened by dorky math t-shirts or de-emphasized by unflattering angles. In person, I was having to remind myself to breathe.
Right on top of that arrived more magic. Her demeanour was entirely laid-back and modestly reassuring, which gave me just enough social oxygen to recognize that our personalities are extremely similar. We sat down on a blanket on the grass and settled into chatting, and the metaphorical clicking was profound. Our navigation of emotional space was facilitated by her kind negotiation of physical space, with deliberate trust-building consideration but enthralling incremental proximity. It was just so extremely nice to be around her. In that state, we listened to some lovely music, and stole more moments of delightful conversation to talk about everything possible on a regular date.
All too soon, the concert is over. The desperate look in her eye reflects my own wishes for this not to be over yet, so we wonder about what else we could do - walk, go somewhere for drinks, anything. She gets a sly look, and says that she has an invite to an exclusive house party, and that I could be her plus-one. But that there's something I should know about it - it's being run by a local group called...
Sexual Positivity Portland.
Of course I say yes.
Indeed, some time shortly after meeting her in person, I recognized that some part of me was going to insist that I say yes to everything she ever suggests.
Since I had no car, we pack up (possibly leaving on the grass a chocolate bar that she brought) and walk through the growing gloom to where she had parked. As we go, she explained that her youngest adult daughter is making most of her money from pole dancing. She wants to try to be supportive, but her daughter wants her to do some things to deal with her prudishness first - so taking some classes with SPP and various other exposure events, like this party. She's nervous, and I'm there as support. Of course, I'm nervous, so we're really each other's support.
It's a fantastic house party in the west hills, and we get gently interrogated to make sure we are supposed to be there. We get our "level-1" wristbands, and taken on a tour of the areas available to us by a curvy lady in a stretchy net. The areas we are not permitted to access are also pointed out, with warnings about consent and exposure. Then we're free to wander about and socialize. And it was incredibly fascinating, casually conversing with a wide spectrum of humans in varying states of undress and/or costumes. Our curiosity drove us to peek in every corner, while clutching each other's hands.
Then we decide to get in the naked hot tub.
It's at this point that I realize that I need to completely re-calibrate my conceptualization of attractiveness, because when she takes off her clothes 10 feels like a low guess. This woman is 49, and absolutely the most beautiful human I have ever witnessed in person. And we climb into the hot tub, and she puts her hand on my leg to keep me close.
We have conversations talking about every kind of harmless kink you can imagine, with a revolving cast of naked humans of every shape and ilk dipping in and out of the tub. The CEO of a bank was a particularly kindly participant. Eventually the conversation comes around to our connection to Sexual Positivity Portland, which is to say little and none respectively. Which leads to asking about our connection with each other, where we reveal that this is our first date, and indeed our first time meeting in person. It feels like a big deal to impress this crowd with our adventurousness, and it feels true.
Eventually we drag ourselves from the tub and go to find something to drink, because we've both become parched. Dressed and slightly damp, we wedge ourselves past the kitchen to the drinks area adjacent to the dance floor, and sip some water. She looks at me with a soft pleading expression. "I think I need you to kiss me." So we kiss.
It had been a long time since I had been kissed back, or felt wanted. It was like discovering what my lips were for. We both reeled a bit breathlessly, and decide that we need some more space - alone. After some meandering, we find a nice, wide swing to share. And we explore some more of how we melt into each other; how well we fit, and how right it is.
Into the wee hours, the house party starts shutting down and everyone is being gently ushered off into the night. We both hate the idea of ending this, whatever it is, but we're pretty exhausted. She asks if it would be OK if we go back to her place and just snuggle for a few hours - because I have to be home in time to parent when the kids get up.
And that's what we do. I meet her dog, we curl up, and she sleeps in my arms. And I soak in the feelings.
When it's time to go, she insists on driving me home instead of letting me take a Lyft so that she can spend some more time with me. She throws on some formless sweat pants and a loose t-shirt with yet another math joke on it, and is utterly adorable. Which is when I coin her code name:
Nerdy Sex Goddess.
As she drives me home, we have the pointed conversation about STIs, relationship goals, needs and wants. And we both recognize that we are incompatible, and that we should not be a couple. It would have been heartbreaking, except that I was still so happy having had the experience at all. And... neither of us is actually willing to call it, to admit its impossibility. So we don't. And she dropped me off, a different person than I've ever been.
When I die, as I count my many blessings and reasons for why I am glad for my life, that first date will be on the list. It is legend.